


Sister Of The Moon

by velveteenvamp



Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: A lot of this is from my own experiences, Crisis of Faith, Gen, Lapsed Judaism, Paganism, Somehow i worked my buffy the vampire slayer headcanon into this, This is a bit critical of organised religion, Witchcraft, soul searching, spirituality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:47:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23496283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/velveteenvamp/pseuds/velveteenvamp
Summary: Sam reflects on the journey her spirituality has led her on over the years. Includes themes of lapsed religion and doesn't necessarily paint organised religion in a very positive way (though it's mostly just a couple of throwaway lines), so if that bothers you, please give this a miss.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	Sister Of The Moon

If you had asked her where it all began, Sam couldn't have given a direct answer. Was it when she disappeared off outside when she was four and spent all day under a grand willow tree, basking in its natural beauty? Or perhaps it was the time when, at the tender age of seven, she found herself sitting in the synagogue during service unable to concentrate because not a word of it resonated with her. Sam remembered those occasions and all of the smaller moments between, and after them, that came. 

Whenever it was that those feelings took root didn't really matter, Sam just always knew that she was _different_. Not only did she not want to wear pink like the other girls at school or play with Barbies, but she knew that there was something _more_ , something profoundly bigger than anything she knew. There wasn't a word for it, she didn't think, but she knew that whatever it was she believed, it wasn't mainstream. Knowing that it wasn't mainstream made her hunger for it all the more, a thirst for knowledge unable to be quenched. 

Over the years, the roots of an alternative life grew and sprouted new vines whenever she found herself questioning the austere narrative of organised religion. Sam had never believed the scary tales of condemnation nor had she subscribed to the idea of there being one omniscient, omnipresent male force. Rather, she liked to think that there was maybe more than one answer out there, something that most people didn't dare to seek out.

It was one night when she had been staying up too late watching _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ that she had a revelation. Seeing Willow identify as a witch and practice magic in a way she hadn't seen before somehow deeply resonated. Maybe that was what she was, a Wiccan. It certainly came closer to anything else she had heard before. 

So Sam borrowed library books on religions and she searched on the internet to try and find answers. The more she looked, the less convinced she was that she was a Wiccan after all. There was too much of it she disagreed with, especially the idea of magic being divided into two camps of black and white ~~\--~~ as far as she was concerned, it wasn't that simple. To her, magic was another force like physics, completely neutral. How it could be manipulated depended on the individual and their intentions. Eventually, buds blossomed on the vines when she discovered the word she had looking for: _witch_. Because, as Sam learned, a witch wasn't a belief system in by itself, but rather a term to describe a magic practitioner. By that point, she had tried several spells to varying degrees of success ranging from attempts to have nicer dreams, to hexes in order to get back at Paulina. 

It was incredible how such a humble five-letter word suddenly made everything click into place. Assimilating it into her identity gave her a new sense of pride, yet another facet to her arsenal of unabashed independence. Now her inherent reverence for nature made _so_ much more sense. As did the desire to divine and her uncanny knack of having prophetic dreams. So much of it was subtle and organic, nothing like the world-bending sorcery that was seen so often on television. But perhaps Sam's favourite part about her all of it was the word _witch_ itself. It held such a politically-charged power, so often used as a put-down to any woman who didn't fit a societal convention. For her, it was feminine-driven empowerment, the ultimate act of rebellion in a world that so regularly tried to quash it. 

The buds that had grown bloomed into beautiful flowers over time as her confidence and acceptance matured, though it had taken her a while to reconcile her Jewish background with her newfound spirituality. Sam worried about how her family would react once they saw some of the books she kept in her bedroom or how they'd phrase the inevitable questions about a growing collection of mystical curios she had assembled. Fortunately, her parents didn't seem to care much about her alternative path. Or at least, they didn't pay any more attention to it than they did the rest of her much-loathed lifestyle. Their disapproval of her had taken shape long before she started praying to Hekate and diving with tarot cards. Eventually, she realised that she had nothing to prove ~~\--~~ after all, there was no reason why she couldn't be proud of her heritage and sympathetic to the struggles of her ancestors while still practicing another faith, and if it ticked her parents off, then it could only be a good thing. 

Still, she continued to participate in Hanukkah because Sam loved _any_ wintry celebration. Whenever it fell over December 21st, she would light a branch on the menorah after sunset, having done her Yuletide rituals earlier in the day. Maybe it wasn't conventional, but when had _Sam Manson_ cared for convention anyway? The hodgepodge of holidays was just another thing that made her unique. 

Laying on her plush bed, violet eyes scanned over the browning pages, soaking in every last detail of the script. The tome in question was an early edition of _The Qabalistic Tarot_ , one of Sam's favourite occult texts. Her grandmother had given it to her with a mischievous smile, saying that it would help her become a better tarot reader and that she should know. On that day, Sam realised that once again, her and grandma Ida were ridiculously alike ~~\--~~ it made sense that she was a witch, after all, she had _always_ possessed an uncanny knack of knowing exactly what Sam was thinking. 

Turning over the page, Sam cracked a smile to herself, secure in the knowledge that no matter what, she always had her integrity. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I had this idea a while ago and I've always headcanoned Sam as a witch, so I thought I'd expand on that theme more while marrying it with her Jewish background. A lot of this comes from my own experiences and thoughts since I come from a Jewish background but realised I was a witch at a young age. Nothing about this was intended to hurt anyone who does subscribe to organised religion, I'm all for live and let live! This was just an exploration of themes that personally resonate with me and I thought it'd be interesting to give Sam a similar outlook.


End file.
